Even in this base degraded form
by Lost In A Dark Wood
Summary: Alone at night, Kanon struggles with the new reality created by the Zero Requiem. For those who do not know any better, Schneizel is Schneizel. Unfortunately, Kanon knew the White Prince better than any other man or woman living or dead. Kanon/Schneizel
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Even in this base degraded form**  
Pairing**: Kanon/Schneizel  
**Genre: **Angst  
**Rating: **T (to be safe)  
**Disclaimer:** T'ain't mine.

**Summary: **"Schneizel is not Schneizel. My Prince is lost to me. If I were stronger I would kill him." Kanon struggles with the aftermath of Lelouch's death.

**Author's Notes: **Up until about yesterday, I wasn't a terribly great fan of Schneizel or Kanon, although Schneizel/Kanon did intrigue me. And then, today it occurred to me that if Kanon and Schneizel did have a more… intimate… relationship, Kanon would probably be rather upset by the way in which the series ended. Since this is told from Kanon's perspective, there will be A LOT of Lelouch/Suzaku/Nunally bashing. In the same proportion, there will be a lot of praise of Schneizel, some of it undeserved.

**Chapter One**

I almost died today—Maybe. That sentence is wrong, but I am not entirely sure whether the problem lies in the word "almost" or the word "today."

This is devotion: Of all the things to regret as I was marched to my doom I could only thing of this: my Prince would die a slave. Nothing else mattered to me. Rather Lelouch had killed us all aboard the Damocles. That was it; I regretted not dying sooner.

Now Lelouch is dead. Nunally is the 100th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, an impostor Zero her Knight, and His Highness her Minister.

Now Lelouch is dead.

Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. Lelouch is dead. _Lelouch is dead._

Lelouch  
is  
dead.

I saw his death with my own eyes. How to describe what I felt then? Hope? I do not think so… I doubt I shall ever be able to feel hope again. But it was something, something strong, a ball of anxious anticipation and unadulterated joy formed in the pit of my stomach as Zero plunged his sword into the impostor emperor; an electric ecstasy filled me as the monster who enslaved my Prince fell and slid down from his pedestal, leaving a trail of bright red blood as evidence of his death.

Along with the rest of the world I saw Lelouch vi Britannia die.

Along with the rest of the world I saw Zero kill Lelouch vi Britannia.

That devil's curse is lifted. The world he enslaved saw him die and lost him as its lord and master.

But His Highness had his back turned to the assassination.

His Highness did not see Lelouch die.

His Highness did not see Zero kill Lelouch.

And really, His Highness was never a slave to Lelouch.

"Serve me. Serve _Zero_."

That damn blasted curse! Two commands. One Geass. That was all it took to take the pinnacle of human perfection, beautiful, bright, composed, compassionate, skilled, loving Schneizel and turn him into a will-less puppet serving _Zero_. His Highness unwillied, undone, unmanned, all by the man he loved most in the world. Damn you Lelouch. I pray to whatever Gods that you burn forever in the deepest, darkest, hottest pit of hell for the rest of eternity. But even that will be of no use to me. Clever demon—did you foresee this eventuality, did you plan for this? Was that your intention when you commanded the brother who loved you so to serve Zero? Or was that simply your luck? How is it possible that a rotten, filthy, traitorous boy can be so fully and so undeservingly loved by all the fates? How could you have repaid your loving, doting brother so? And to me? What ever did I do to you, to deserve this punishment worse than death at your hands?

What foolish things I write. Lelouch is dead.

And yet, Zero lives, and so long as Zero lives, His Highness will "gladly" serve him.

And of course, so long as His Highness lives, I will serve him, even in this base degraded form.

Schneizel is not Schneizel. My Prince is lost to me. If I were stronger I would kill him. If I were weaker, I would kill myself. All I can do now is despair and serve my Prince, who serves Zero, who serves Nunally.

**Author's Notes**: I realize nothing much happened, but it's supposed to read like a diary, and for the moment Kanon is just angsting. Rest assured, he will continue to angst, but he'll go and do things too. Reviews would be wildly appreciated. :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **Updating a story which hasn't gotten any reviews? It's not very clever. But I like this story a lot. I had a rather colorful dream, which I think will be the basis of the next chapter. For now, another page from the diary of Earl Kanon Maldini.

**Two**

Nothing to report. I am only writing out of boredom.

Little, it seems has changed. The Second Prince of Britannia is now first among peers—he retains the rank of Prime Minister. He is brilliant and charming, collected as ever.

And what of me? I remain the Earl Kanon Maldini, His Highness' Aide-de-camp. His Highness relies on me to keep him informed and turns to me for advice, as he always has. He stands proud, erect as always. He smiles when he must smile, bows when he must bow. He maintains the respect of his friends and enemies alike. For those who do not know any better, Schneizel is Schneizel.

But I know better. I knew my Prince better than any other man or woman living or dead, and I can see the slavery in his eyes. How to describe that subtle glaze which does not hide his bright spark but covers his will? It is the mark of Geass, and I can see it.

Still—even with that glaze, the days are not so bad. So long as I do not look at him, I can imagine that life goes on as before. If His Highness had accepted to serve Zero of his own volition, I would have followed him. This is almost the same.

By contrast, the nights are intolerable.

I cannot sleep.

This morning His Highness remarked that I looked fatigued. He inquired towards my health and when I confessed that I had trouble sleeping he suggested a glass of warm milk before bed.

How like the good, kind, White Prince. His Highness has always understood the importance of kindness to all persons. That is it, his concern was nothing more than one of those exquisitely timed and carefully rehearsed smiles and bows.

There was a time, not so long ago when Prince Schneizel would have asked me about my health out of genuine concern, and if I had told him I was having trouble sleeping, he would not have suggested warm milk to put me to bed any more than he would have suggested coffee to keep me awake. He would have remembered that I hate warm beverages.

Nevertheless, I am very tired and I must sleep. I am of no use to His Highness as tired as I am, and now I fear he would not hesitate to replace him if someone else would better help him serve Zero.

It is already three in the morning. Later in the morning I shall see a physician about some sleeping pills.

**Author's notes: **At the time of writing, the last chapter had 35 views and no reviews—not very encouraging. If you've made it to the second chapter however, I do hope you'll drop me a line to tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Busy day yesterday—did not have time to pick up pills. I thought I would try cold medicine to get to bed instead.

Worst.

Idea.

Ever.

Not only did it not help me get to sleep, it made matters worse by making me completely useless and muddled. I lay in bed for hours on end, unable to think well enough to write or read and resorted finally to the television. Mindless useless drivel which I would never in my life have watched if not for the extraordinary circumstances. As best I can remember, I must have fallen asleep sometime around 5 in the morning.

What little sleep I had was troubled by wild, vivid dreams. And by that, I mean nightmares. I blame it on the drugs.

First I dreamt of Lelouch. Strange to dream of him as I did, but not as strange as the rest of the dream, which took place in a yellow-brown world where up was down and down was up and time had no meaning. His Majesty the Late Emperor Charles was there, as was Euphemia and another girl, both of them dead. Lelouch was speaking with the Emperor, and then, out of nowhere three long knives lodged themselves into Lelouch's chest. Suzaku Kururugi had thrown them.

The second dream was more harrowing, but it taught me something. Do you know how they say that if one dies during a dream, the resulting shock will kill one? It is in fact a baseless myth, unless having one's skull repeatedly bashed into the ground so that bits of one's brain and skull mix with flakes of marble does not count as dying.

In that dream I was at once an observer and a character. I saw myself attacked, detached from my person as my head was brought down again and again. I can still close my eyes and see my dead white face, my hair tinged red with blood as my brains seeped out of my head. But at the same time, I could also see from my own vantage point the look of hatred on the face of the man who so violently abused me.

I dreamt that I was dressed as Zero.  
I dreamt that Prince Schneizel killed me.

I awoke with a scream of terror at 6 and did not sleep any more that night.

My work today was sloppy. I fell asleep at my post. Prince Schneizel remarked on my poor performance and did not veil his threats. For the first time in my life, I find that I fear him.

But now I will take a pill and pray my sleep will be still and peaceful so that tomorrow I may once again be of use to my Prince.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Pills working, feeling much better. Business continues as usual.

- - -

As the degenerate French say: _rien __à __dire_.

Why did I even bother learning French in the first place?

- - -

The Eleven minister is getting uppity and could be trouble. I liked him better when he was Zero's second in command. Now of course that post belongs to Prince Schneizel. To think the Second prince of Britannia is reduced to be the eternal slave of the ghost of the mask of the Eleventh.

Of course, it helps when the person who is 87th in the line of succession blows up the Imperial city...

What bitter lies I tell myself. But I have no hope, so may I be entitled to my lies.

- - -

One more reason to hate Japan: the time difference. An emergency meeting was called after I had taken my pills and needless to say, I was beyond useless. I do not think His Highness will call on me after hours after this—and to think that I had thought...

The past really is the past; how I long for it.


End file.
